


a friend at the end of the world

by howyoubrewing



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Korkie Kryze is a Kenobi, PTSD, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Rebel Alliance (Star Wars), Slow Burn, Survival, different timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28004583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howyoubrewing/pseuds/howyoubrewing
Summary: Ahsoka is weary of running from the Empire. She begs the Force for help, to send her anyone to keep her company and assist her. The Force sends it in the form of an old friend.[Or: Ahsoka and Korkie team up to survive and help the Rebellion. a slightly alternate timeline, about a year after order 66]
Relationships: Korkie Kryze/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 31
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I've had this idea for a while, and it was inspired by arbordraws on Instagram (they have a really amazing AU of Korkie and Ahsoka). This follows a very different timeline but that is where I got the idea to put them together. 
> 
> A few background things: basically, the events on Raada from the Ahsoka novel still occurred, but I'm putting some more time between that and when she joins the Rebel Alliance as Fulcrum. This is an in-between, and I'm changing the timeline more so than the characters or canon. I have a lot of it written already and I'm really excited to see where it goes!  
> Enjoy!

The last thing Ahsoka Tano wanted to hear as she woke up for the day was an Imperial Star Destroyer entering the atmosphere with an abrupt thundering, jolting her awake and disturbing the peaceful sunrise.

She was on her feet in seconds, lightsaber clipped to her belt, throwing her cloak on as she dashed to the window at the front of the modest house she’d been renting. Sure enough, the ship’s hulking form threw the entire village into shadow, the force of its engines stirring up dust and dirt. She heard the startled screams of children playing in the street—as far as she knew, the Empire had never visited them. Nor was their arrival anticipated.

It was obvious the only reason they were here was suspected Rebel activity or a suspected Force user. Atorra was a small farming planet on the Outer Rim, a place the average person didn’t know existed and somewhere only native farmers and villagers would want to live. It was why she’d expected longer time before the Empire arrived.

 _Naive,_ she thought.

Ahsoka sighed wearily, the exhaustion of simply _surviving_ and being on the run for almost a year slowly setting deep into her bones. How long could a person run for? Every day it seemed another planet was taken over by the Empire; another civilization razed for resources or village martyred for some greater cause. They were closing in on the galaxy one system at a time and she wasn’t sure she could escape capture much longer.

Ever since her activity on Raada, she’d had a decently sized target on her back. It wasn’t something she regretted, and she certainly missed the friends she made and helped, but it’d made her life significantly more difficult since. Too many close calls.

The Rebellion was still a faint, hopeful question in the back of her mind. She still had her reservations and trust issues, so she wasn’t ready to completely start working with them yet. It wasn’t like they were much better off than she was—still running, without a place to call home, executing guerrilla warfare and small, destructive missions. Their resources had been stretched thin from the beginning. They were all living in a dark galaxy, in the shadow of the Republic and the Jedi where it was hard to trust anyone.

Everyone had lost people, she knew, but Ahsoka reasoned that not getting close to anyone else would prevent her from feeling the excruciating loss again; when her world came crumbling down around her, her closest friends, her _family_ gone. Obi-Wan, Anakin, the clones…gone. The thought of them still sent a twinge of pain through her, one that she was used to pushing down until she went numb.

She even had to say goodbye to Rex, sending him away for his own safety. She’d told him it was because they had less a chance of being caught—which was true—but it was more because he stood practically _no_ chance of not being executed if they were arrested. They would pin him as a traitor, helping a Jedi escape, and he would be tortured and killed. It was something Ahsoka couldn’t allow, couldn’t bear the thought of watching. At least if he were recognized as a former clone on his own, he could argue his way out of it.

She had become a danger to him. She was the reason all his brothers died, after all, on that kriff-forsaken starship when Order 66 hit. She never told him how much of it she blamed on herself.

Ahsoka had made him leave, hugging him tightly, her heart tearing in two as they said goodbye and she watched his ship take off. Only as it left the atmosphere did she allow the tears to come. She prayed to the Force he would stay safe. That one day they could be together again.

_Live to fight another day._

But she doubted sometimes whether she really wanted that. Did she truly want to live out the rest of her days in hiding, alone, running from an infinitely powerful regime that wanted her head? What was it all worth? She didn’t want to do another _year_ of this, let alone decades. It was morbid and depressing and really not the Jedi way, but she didn’t care anymore. She was exhausted.

 _Just get it over with,_ she shot morosely into the Force. _I’m tired. Send some help or just kill me, dammit._

Shots resounded from outside, jarring her back to reality. Ahsoka grabbed her sparse belongings—her backpack, shoving rations in it. A canteen, medical supplies and painkillers, a small toolkit. She ascertained from the bootsteps out front that troops were doing a search of the houses and dodged out the small back door into the alleyway. She’d have to pay her rent another day.

Ahsoka secured the hood over her head and focused on staying out of sight, as much as she wanted to intervene and stop the stormtroopers from bullying the villagers. She’d go to the shipyard, where most of them were unguarded, and borrow a modest one. She had to get offworld—from the looks of the second Star Destroyer zooming into view out of hyperspace, they’d be searching the whole planet. She could take no chances.

Ahsoka ignored the hunger gnawing at her, like it normally did. She’d lost a good deal of weight recently despite keeping up her training pretty well; whether it was the nightmares or the climbing price of rations and market food, she couldn’t say. But the face she glanced in the mirror each morning was thin and wan, shadows haunting under her eyes. If Anakin were there he would scold her for not getting enough sleep. He would burst into her room and wake her up gently from a nightmare, rub her shoulders until she calmed down.

 _Stop it,_ she scolded herself. _He’s not here. You’re alone, and everyone you know is dead and gone._

Anakin was a largely off-limits topic of thought; all her best and most painful memories wrapped into one. It was best to not waste wishful thinking on her former Master.

Ahsoka weaved in and out of the alleys as she neared the shipyard, growing suspicious as she faced no resistance. It was almost too easy. Almost as if the troopers were elsewhere on purpose…

The Force screamed a warning just as she cleared the poorly secured gate of the shipyard. Ahsoka whirled, igniting her saber simultaneously to meet with a red one, wielded by a giant of a figure in a cloak. They radiated the Dark side and hatred, so much that it made her cringe a bit internally. It was clearly a different being than she encountered on Raada, but it felt eerily similar. Like they were bounty hunters for Jedi, or specialty Sith trained to hunt them. Either way, she knew from experience that this wouldn’t be an easy escape.

Their blades clashed violently, rapidly, and though Ahsoka was by no means out of practice, this Force user was skilled and had two blades. It was difficult for Ahsoka to hold the upper hand for a significant period of time; they simply alternated, offense to defense, wearing her out.

“What do you want?” Ahsoka shouted at the figure, narrowly dodging being beheaded.

“You know who sent me,” was the only reply, the voice deep and inhuman.

“I really don’t,” she retorted, a prick of annoyance. Two of these inconvenient bastards and she still didn’t get a clear answer?

“Oh, but you do. You will.”

The words still make no sense, and Ahsoka uses the Force to hurl a shipping barrel at them—it hit, and they let out a yell of fury. Then they were back at it, Ahsoka trying to kill this thing, the _thing_ trying to back her into a corner. She couldn’t figure out if it wanted her dead or alive.

Something vaguely familiar pricked at her conscience—another presence she couldn’t quite identify, like the words of a song from her childhood that were lost to memory. It was drawing a blank, her memory refusing to retrieve it. But it was not another one of these _things_ nor Dark side.

The distraction was enough to give the creature a chance. Ahsoka moved just in time to avoid being fully impaled and instantly killed, but the saber still struck her in the side anyways. Ahsoka cried out in surprise as the other blade slashed across her shoulder and collar bone. She staggered backwards, the pain lancing through her body as she attempted to stay on her feet.

Then her throat constricted, an invisible hand crushing it, using the Force to choke her. The hooded figure slowly dragged her forwards, Ahsoka gasping at the sudden asphyxiation. Black spots danced in her vision.

“Lord Vader will be most pleased,” the creature growled, as she neared it, her feet still scrambling for purchase.

_No. I won’t be tortured by Imperialists._

With all the strength left in her, Ahsoka summoned her fallen lightsaber. The timing had to be perfect, and the creature couldn’t notice. She kept staring directly at it, staring it down like she was unafraid, hoping to distract him from what she was about to do.

“Kriff—you” she wheezed out.

The creature made a small noise of surprise as she drove her saber directly into its heart (or where she prayed his heart was). The pressure on her throat released, and she gulped in a painful breath, coughing and struggling to regain it. She fought the dizziness as she watched the dying body thud to the ground, lightsabers hitting the dirt.

Whoever Lord Vader was, he was certainly _not_ going to be happy.

Without warning, her legs gave way and she collapsed to the ground, the wounds carved in her at last registering as the adrenaline wore off. The world tilted as her cheek pressed into the dirt, trying to right itself, and Ahsoka tried to get up but couldn’t quite muster the strength.

Then she felt the presence again, the faintly familiar one that had brushed in her mind minutes ago. Someone knelt next to her, a hand on her temple.

“ _Ahsoka?_ ”

Ahsoka blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Ahsoka picked up on was that she was on a ship. The low hum of the engines reverberated through her bones in a comforting familiarity—she felt like most of the war was spent on ships, constantly shuttling from one system to the other and occasionally back to the Temple. The steady, quiet rhythm indicated they were in hyperspace.

She forced her eyes open despite the pounding in her head, grimacing a bit. She was neatly arranged in a bunk, a blanket draped over her. Her shoulder was wrapped in bandages, and her ribs with bacta patches and cloth strips. The wounds hurt when she moved, but they had obviously been treated well and looked a little better than she remembered.

The most recent pieces of her memory felt scattered, like her brain was still trying to meld them together cohesively. Her mind felt foggy. Whose ship was this? Why was she here? The last thing she remembered was killing the Dark side user working for someone named Lord Vader.

Had another one come along and captured her?

It was unlikely, given the fact that she wasn’t chained up and had received medical attention, but who knew with Imperials. They could have strict orders to keep her in good condition; there was no telling what the Sith wanted with her. She couldn’t take the chance. She had to investigate now. Take control of the ship if possible.

As silently as she could, she rose from the bunk and crept out into the hallway towards the cockpit. Moving slowly both out of stealth and the searing pain in her side that threatened to give her away if she unclenched her jaw, Ahsoka reached out again into the Force and was met with the same presence she’d felt back during her fight. Like a distant acquaintance, someone she’d met before her world came collapsing around her like a dying star.

The old Ahsoka would have trusted her instincts and let her guard down. She was someone who maintained a constant optimism, always believing the best of people.

In this new galaxy, acting like that meant you didn’t survive. The new shell of herself that she felt like now trusted no one, unwilling to risk losing someone yet again.

With a slightly ungraceful stagger, Ahsoka burst into the cockpit room and immediately spotted the pilot. She didn’t wait for him to notice her—she seized him around the neck with the Force and threw him to the ground, scanning the room for her saber as she sent him crashing unceremoniously at her feet.

A spark of anger rose in her as she honed in on her weapon, clipped around his belt. Calling it back to her, Ahsoka ignited it and aimed it directly at his face.

“You have about five seconds to tell me who you are and why I shouldn’t impale you.”

The man piloting was in his early twenties, with reddish blond hair and a handsome, sharp face. He was in nondescript, dark clothes and if Ahsoka had to guess was fairly close to her age.

“Ahsoka,” he coughed in surprise, taking a few gulps of air as she released the pressure on his throat. “This is quite the reunion.”

Ahsoka was so annoyed she nearly stabbed him right then and there, but in the instant before she did, the fog around her brain seemed to lift and the answer clicked into place—years ago, on Mandalore, of the class she taught as a Padawan to cadets and the espionage she’d helped plan.

She lowered her saber, her jaw dropping along with it. “ _Korkie_?”

Korkie sat up and rubbed his forehead, smoothed his hair back a bit as he relaxed. “It’s good to see you’re up.”

“I—how—?” Ahsoka spluttered.

He gave her a crooked grin. “Care for a drink?”

—

The conversation lasted a long time as they caught up on their lives and discussed the current state of the galaxy. Korkie had changed so much from the immature, boyish cadet craving adventure and rebellion that she met all those years ago. He carried himself differently, more reserved, a newfound maturity that emanated through his words and his gaze as he listened to her. Ahsoka couldn’t help but think she enjoyed talking with him more than the naive boy in the academy. Despite the reservations she had about forming connections with anyone, she was willing to sit and drink with him and push away their harsh realities.

Korkie described his years since they last met, namely, his escape from Mandalore after Maul killed Satine. She felt a pang of sadness at the pain in his eyes; she still remembers Obi-Wan returning to the Temple after that, his gaze empty and broken. He’d been quiet for days, the shadows deepening under his eyes. Her and Anakin knew that Obi-Wan and Satine were something other than friends, something much deeper.

She also recalled that it happened just a few weeks before the bombing.

Her mental shields against the memories clanged back up like a cargo bay door slamming shut. _Stop._ She forced herself to focus on Korkie as he finished his story.

Essentially he’d been living in dozens of different systems since then, taking odd trading jobs mostly involving transporting cargo and weaponry for anonymous clients. He was technically still somewhere on Mandalore’s list of wanted criminals, but was nowhere near a high priority due to the constant turmoil the world went through and the new rule of the Empire.

 _He’s not really on the run_ , Ahsoka thought, a small prick of jealousy along with it. _Not like I am._

“I was getting ready to leave because I’d already dropped off my client’s load. I saw the fighting and thought I recognized you, though I couldn’t be sure. It’s not often you see a familiar face these days.” Korkie said ruefully.

Ahsoka exhaled as she processed this information. It was clear he wasn’t directly involved with the Rebellion at the moment, which didn’t tell her much because a lot of good people out there were wary of it. But he could just as easily be allied with some shadier figures who’d promised him a pretty penny for a Jedi. She was one of the most wanted people in the galaxy, after all.

But he’d saved her life. That counted for something.

“Thanks for saving me,” she told him, draining the whiskey and savoring the burn as it went down. She ignored the way it hurt to swallow, the bruises on her throat already coming in full force. Alcohol was hard to come by and Force knew she could use it. “It’s not often someone does that these days.”

Korkie laughed, pouring himself another cup in agreement. “So what brought you to that backwater hole? How have you been getting by after—since—” He stumbled apologetically, knowing there was no tactful way to say _the genocide of nearly every Jedi in existence._ As far as the rest of the galaxy knew, the Jedi were traitors who’d been rightfully executed by the new regime to rise to power. She could tell from the look on his face he disagreed.

Ahsoka sighed. She hated talking about it, still, had never learned how to properly express the soul-deep grief she experienced that day and every day since. But she owed him somewhat of an explanation, if a limited one, to explain why he had to drag her unconscious body onto his ship in the middle of nowhere.

“It was…the worst day of my life, by far. Worse than when I left the Order,” Ahsoka bit her lip, trying to formulate the words necessary. “We captured Maul, with the help of Bo Katan on Mandalore. We were headed back to Coruscant, the war was supposed to be coming to a close. But…”

_“Rex? What’s wrong?”_

_“Find him! Find Fives!”_

_The ship alarms blaring, Maul ripping the place apart bit by bit. Saving Rex but being unable to help the others as they shot at them, the ship careening into the surface of the moon._

_Screams. Hers, her brothers’, or Rex’s she did not know. She couldn’t tell anymore._

“But?” Korkie echoed softly, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“It didn’t. Not the way anyone thought. The Sith took over the Senate, and the clones…the clones turned against us.” Ahsoka clenched her jaw and stared blankly at the table, wishing so desperately she could go back and try to fix things. That the galaxy wasn’t so cruel. “I was the only one that survived.”

The few people who knew about Rex, the better. And if she could erase him from the story she retold to others, maybe his absence would sting less.

Korkie nodded, looking about as sorry for her as she felt. She didn’t want his pity. “How did you survive?” He asked. “I mean, didn’t they _all_ try and kill you? That seems impossible—”

“I’m done talking about it,” Ahsoka interrupted sharply, and he closed his mouth quickly. “It wasn’t exactly a nice day.”

“Right, I’m sorry.”

She scowled, fighting another retort. It was only natural to want answers, because she knew the Empire kept everyone in darkness about what happened during Order 66. For those who knew Jedi, she could see how it would be frustrating not to know the truth. But it wasn’t as if he’d been close to many of them.

Ahsoka settled for another brief explanation, trying not to be as abrupt. “I’ve been on the run since. Sometimes I can find work in places needing mechanics or other small jobs. That’s why I was in that village, but I knew the Imperials were likely there for me. I was about to steal a ship and head off planet anyways. I can never stay anywhere for long.”

“Do you…do you know what happened to Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi?” The question was hesitant, obviously important but played off as casual.

Ahsoka flinched at the mention of the name, and he looked apologetic for about the thousandth time. It infuriated her. “I assumed he also died in Order 66. I haven’t heard anything from him or gotten any news.”

The memories of her Grandmaster were soft, light, happy ones. Spending time together while Anakin was on mission, leaving Ahsoka lonely and craving a companion. Missions where he would stop at nothing to protect her and Anakin. A deeply kindhearted and selfless man.

She put together a while back that Cody was likely the one to shoot him down. Cody, his commander and trusted companion. Obi-Wan probably never saw it coming.

“Oh,” he said, looking slightly disappointed. “Nothing?”

Ahsoka raised an eye marking at him. “Why do you care? Did you even know him?”

He averted his gaze and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just curious.”

She was fairly sure it _wasn’t_ nothing, but she decided to let it go for now. Perhaps it had something to do with his aunt.

Ahsoka stared out the viewport at the stars flying past—they were deep into hyperspace. “So where are you headed now?”

“I have a delivery to an Outer Rim moon,” Korkie informed her, drumming his fingers against the table. “Apologies for bringing you along with me. My client wants it there soon, so there wasn’t much time to wait for you to be up.”

She shrugged at him. “You saved my life. I owe you. I can at least help you out a bit while I’m here.”

He waved a hand dismissively at that. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve never been one to keep track of blood debts. Besides, you’ve always been a friend to Mandalore. One could argue _you_ owe us.”

 _Depends on where you stand on Mandalore,_ she thought, the confusing timeline of the planet’s history and power struggles swirling in her mind. Death Watch and Maul’s control. Dutchess Satine, while arguably naive and not the leader her people wanted, had good intentions. She didn’t deserve her tragic end at Maul’s hands.

“After that, I…” he trailed off, deep in thought. Then he looked over at her, hesitation in his face. “I’ve been trying to get into contact with the Rebel Alliance.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ahsoka wasn’t sure what to make of it. Of course, it meant he had no ulterior motives with her and most likely wasn’t involved with anyone _too_ shady. But one could never be too careful these days—everyone in the galaxy was on the lookout for rogue Force users, commanded to turn any in. Told to fear them.

She propped her chin on her hand and looked at him. “The Rebel Alliance? Don’t you run shipments for _anonymous_ clients? Potentially shady ones? Wouldn’t look good.” She didn’t know much about them or how to get into contact with them, but she wasn’t sure how trusted anyone from Mandalore would be to a secret rebel organization.

“Actually, I think it would be a good cover. I could transport weapons and supplies for them, and the Empire wouldn’t be any the wiser. I’d have all the records for my legitimate work and keep everything Rebellion-related off the books.” Korkie shrugged. “What do you think? I’m sure they’d be very interested in you.”

Ahsoka didn’t like the sound of that. Any Force user, especially former Jedi, drew too much attention. Perhaps too much even in a rebel group. Word could get around about her. Besides…

It just meant people she’d get to know and would lose. Defying the Empire was just about the most dangerous thing in the galaxy to do, and she was sure casualty rates were very high.

And more people she would let down.

Ahsoka looked away. “I’m not sure how well that would go. I’ve been off the radar since Order 66. I would only draw attention to the Alliance.”

“I’m sure they could keep your identity a secret. They would understand,” he reasoned.

“You don’t know _what_ they’ll do,” she bit back. “Have you even met anyone in the Alliance before?”

Korkie looked mildly embarrassed. “I guess not.”

“I’ll help you get to your next drop, but after that I don’t know,” Ahsoka told him, using her good arm to slowly push herself up from the table. She attempted to hide the wince as her bandaged wounds protested. “I really appreciate you helping me out, but I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that.”

He looked a bit disappointed. He could deal with it. “Very well, then. We should both probably get some rest?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Thanks for the drink.”

—

Her sleep was restless and fitful, as per usual, but it was made worse by the fact that she was in an unfamiliar ship and she couldn’t stop thinking about this _Lord Vader_ the Sith user had mentioned. The name rattled around in her brain, pounding her conscience for some semblance of recognition. She felt like she _should_ know him, that he was not someone entirely unfamiliar to her. Maybe even someone from her old life, before the order fell.

She missed Rex. In the brief weeks spent together after the crash, they were both too traumatized to sleep through the night; it helped to have each other. They’d curl up next to each other, shaking, silently willing the night to pass. If they held each other close, the dawn would eventually come.

But she’d been forced to send him away, knowing the risk she posed to him. In keeping him safe, she lost one of her only friends left in the world.

Maybe the _only_ one.

She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Korkie and this whole ordeal. The Force must have orchestrated some serious string-pulling, because it seemed statistically impossible that he would run into her on a supply run. She was grateful for him, of course. But she couldn’t get used to the idea of journeying along with someone else after being alone for so long. It seemed too good to be true.

_Korkie is kind,_ she reminded herself. She’d seen that even when he was just a boy, his sense of justice and honor as a cadet. _He helped you because he is kind._

She didn’t know if she deserved that type of kindness.

Perhaps it couldn’t hurt to glean a bit of information by meeting with the Alliance. Just a few conversations, to get a good read on their intentions and what being with them would look like. It might be nice to have someone looking out for her again, to have ship and other supplies. To not go to bed hungry most nights. What did she have to lose?

_You would get them killed,_ the nasty voice in her subconscious whispered. _Like you always do._

Ahsoka stayed awake the rest of the night, her head swimming with the faces of the dead.

—

The hours passed slowly, then in a blur, and before she knew it Korkie was up making caf and trying to make small talk at the table. Ahsoka tried not to glare at him; it was hard to get used to someone chattering when she was used to living in silence, watching the sunrise and feeling like she was the only person left in the galaxy. But she gave him a nod of thanks as he placed a mug in front of her.

“Get much sleep last night?” Korkie asked, running a hand through his tangled hair.

Ahsoka shook her head, staring solemnly at the sweet-smelling caf in her mug. It warmed her hands, and by the taste of it was pretty high quality. She wondered where he’d been able to get decent caf when it was well known to be in short supply. She though absently of the rare mornings her and Anakin had been able to scrounge some up, or Rex sneaking some to her on campaigns. “No. But that’s nothing out of the ordinary for me.”

He tilted his head, analyzing her, and once again Ahsoka hated the kind and almost pitying way he looked at her. Like he was trying to get to her soul. _I can’t._ “Do you have nightmares a lot?”

Ahsoka flinched a bit at his directness. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I have them sometimes, too,” Korkie said softly. “About my aunt Satine and Mandalore. And when I fled. Sometimes I see the whole planet, burning.”

She doesn’t respond. She can feel her chest tightening, as it always does if she thinks too much about her past, when she tries to recall the nightmares when awake. In order to function during the day, she has to keep the visions and memories under lock and key. Bury them. Never let them too close to the surface. Certainly never discuss them with others. It’s too risky—not only would it involve trusting someone with the information, with her fears and the things she has done…but she was pretty sure that if she did she would break. Just shatter into a million pieces from the grief, the sorrow, the darkness that came every night for her. She was a coward, she knew. She couldn’t face the things she’d done, what she’d been through. 

“Do you…have them about the Jedi?” Korkie probed again, still attempting to reconnect after being apart for so many years, and it was this that pushed her over the edge.

“ _Force,_ how dense can you be?” Ahsoka snapped, slamming the caf down on the table so hard that some of it sloshed over the edge. It burned her fingers, and she swore again. “I _don’t want to talk about those things_ , okay? I can’t.”

Korkie’s face fell a bit, disappointment mixed with undertones of regret. He grabbed a rag and wiped up the spill, offering it to her to wipe her stinging fingers with. “Right. I’m—I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Ahsoka handed the rag back to him stiffly, her jaw set in irritation. A long silence passed between them as Korkie tried to figure out what to say next—it was obvious he didn’t enjoy silences, that he was one of those people who felt the need to talk through them. And that he was a too-kind person who cared about people more than he should. More that most could afford in this new age.

How had he managed to stay the good person he was when he lost people too? They’d both been on the run, yet she’d watched as her heart, once optimistic and open, had hardened, bottling up her emotions and memories to protect her.

Finally, he broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Well, we’re almost there. Figured I should brief you on the…mission, if you will.”

Ahsoka’s eye marking quirked at that. “Mission? Isn’t this just a simple drop-off? At a shipyard or a cruiser?”

“This one’s a little more complicated than that,” he admitted, hesitant. “I actually could really use your help.”

Ahsoka sighed. “What is it?”

“It’s…well. It’s a highly illegal delivery to Nal Hutta.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Don’t tell me you’ve picked up bounty hunting,” Ahsoka grimaced, wondering what exactly was in the cargo hold of Korkie’s ship. She should have investigated overnight, while he was asleep.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Korkie shook his head quickly, looking affronted. “But these days, spice is worth almost more than some bounties.”

“You’re transporting _spice_?” If Ahsoka was honest, a drug runner was one of the last things she’d pin him as. But she’d run the contraband before, that one time on Oba Diah…she scowled as she thought of the Pikes. No one trustworthy was involved in the spice production, excluding maybe the transporters who didn’t know much better. Spice harvesting relied on slavery, and now that the Empire was in charge they had surely taken over the mines and made them even more cruel than before. “I’ve already had run-ins with the Pikes, Korkie. I’m not eager to get involved with them again.”

“It’s not the Pikes,” he assured her. “I know the person I’m supposed to find on Nal Hutta and a location. But from everything I observed and was told about this deal, I’m sure I would have come across evidence of the Pikes if they were involved.”

He had a point. The Pikes reveled in their spice empire, their cruel mines and prisons, the absurd accumulations of wealth. Their insurance was the fear and threats they instilled upon everyone who had dealings with them. She wondered how they were faring with Empire control, how much of their assets had been repossessed. She knew they wouldn’t surrender without a fight.

“I don’t like this,” she shook her head at him. “Spice deliveries get messy pretty quick.”

“I was hoping you could help watch my back.” Korkie leveled his gaze with hers, something else in his tone. He was still trying to earn her trust, her openness. “I’ve never done a deal like this, especially not in a place like Nal Hutta.”

It was one of the most unsavory places in the Outer Rim, so Ahsoka didn’t blame his nerves. There were all sorts of troublesome figures and spies and bounty hunters there, the worst of the worst. She remembered going there with Anakin, what seemed like a millennia ago when the Council faked Obi-Wan’s death.

_That should have been your first red flag about the Jedi,_ she scolded herself. _Who the hell does that?_ She’d thought Anakin was going to implode from rage and grief. It was unbearably difficult for them both.

“I’ve been before,” she informed him. “As a Padawan. It’s important to keep your eyes open at all times, but at the same time keep them down. Don’t draw any attention to yourself or you’ll get robbed for your cargo. Or worse. I have no idea what it’s like now with the Imperials, but I assume they’ve let the Hutts maintain a lot of their rule there. I doubt it’s changed much.”

Korkie nodded along, processing the information. She could see the plan coming together in his head. She hoped he was still decent with a blaster; by the solid build of his muscles, he’d certainly been training and keeping in shape, but that wouldn’t help much if he couldn’t shoot when needed. “That’s good to know. We have to offload the spice to a specified cruiser in the dock, then meet with the client’s proxy at a bar for payment.”

Ahsoka bristled a bit at that. “That’s more attention than we need. We risk being reported. Besides, bars on Nal Hutta are the sleaziest in the galaxy. You’re likely to be robbed of the credits before you can clear the exit door.” She didn’t add that she’d likely be catcalled and groped. It was a part of life, not only as a female but especially as a Togruta, and fighting back usually caused too much of a scene.

He frowned. “It’s the only way I get payment. They handle payments differently for spice, apparently.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “It’s not my business on the line if you get conned, so go for it. I’m just along for the ride.”

He looked nervous, which she didn’t love to see before a mission, but she had to admit that the idea of having a specific job and agenda on a dark planet was a little thrilling. It was nice to have a specific goal to accomplish. Even if it involved a drunken cesspool.

Soon enough they were cruising through the thick, moist atmosphere of Nal Hutta. The entire planet looked shady, shrouded in mist and darkness that hid the evil on the surface.

Ahsoka rifled through her pack and pulled on her cloak, which she always wore in public to avoid drawing attention. There weren’t a lot of Togruta anyways, and word got around fast. Soon enough someone might suspect her of being the same Togruta ranking near the top of the Empire’s wanted list of known Force users. As long as they stayed in the shadows and only spoke to Korkie’s client, it would be fine.

It was already late in the evening on the planet as they docked in a dim shipyard shrouded in fog. Ahsoka secured her hood over her montrals, double checking that her lightsaber remained hidden under her robes. The thick humidity was nearly suffocating as they unloaded the inconspicuous crates of spice into a larger ship several spots down. She scanned their surroundings, looking for anyone who was watching them. On this planet there it seemed there was always someone who wanted to start trouble.

Korkie secured the crates and nodded to her; wordlessly, they fell in step together and began the short walk towards the bars, where the neon lights and pounding music made her brain hurt. She suppressed a scowl at the lowlifes here, who had nothing better to do than party the night away, drinking and sleeping with strangers until the dawn rolled around.

“This is the one,” Korkie murmured to her, intoning his head at a dim establishment that appeared to be the sleaziest of them all (and that was certainly saying something).

They ducked into the poorly lit, claustrophobic building and Ahsoka wrinkled her nose at the smoke and scent that hit her immediately. Most of the bar’s occupants were gambling, flirting with waitress girls, or too drunk to notice their entrance—although Ahsoka wasn’t stupid enough to think _no one_ would take notice. Someone always did. It was just a matter of limiting your exposure to the world before the Empire put two and two together and witnesses started coming forward.

Korkie sidled up next to a scowling Rodian, who gave him a begrudging look and waved a hand at the bartender for a drink as they began their short proceedings. Ahsoka sat next to Korkie, keeping watch of their surroundings as subtly as she could while the two reviewed the terms of the deal.

It hadn’t been long before an unwanted male presence made itself known—a large, green-skinned Duros slipped into the seat next to her and leaned uncomfortably close. Ahsoka was reminded distastefully of Cad Bane. This sleemo didn’t have a hat, and more of his leering face was visible than she would have preferred.

“Hey little miss,” he croaked, a greedy glint in his eyes as he tried to look closer at her under her hood. “Care for a drink?”

Ahsoka wanted to deck the creature straight into next week, but creating a scene would risk Imperial exposure and could ruin Korkie’s dealings. She was forced to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Kriff you,” she retorted, swatting his hand away. “I’m not interested.”

The Duros’ dark eyes narrowed, his features souring at the rejection. His hand closed around her wrist, firmly, and he leaned closer to her. “Come on, missy. Just one drink. And maybe let that hood down.”

Ahsoka saw the fingers on his other hand twitching to reach up for her hood and moved before she truly thought about it, twisting her wrist out of his grip and jerking back from him. She bumped into Korkie, who was shaking hands with the Rodian and collecting his cash. He looked back in surprise at her, frowning as his eyes fell on the Duros.

“Is there a problem here?” He asked, pocketing the credits and finishing off his drink.

“Not a problem, lad.” the creature growled, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Good,” he said politely, but Ahsoka picked up on the hard undertone. He locked eyes with her. “I was just paying for my drink and we can leave.”

Korkie turned back to the bar and pulled some credits out of his pockets, exchanging a few words with the bartender. Ahsoka was watching him, back turned to the Duros, when suddenly his hand clamped down on her injured and bandaged shoulder.

Ahsoka hissed in pain and twisted away from the grip, white spots of pain momentarily filling her vision and leaving her dizzy. The lightsaber wound was still fresh and healing, and his hand on it _hurt_.

“You think you can tell me what to do, you whelp?” The green-skinned man leered at her, enraged by the incident and probably spurred on by the alcohol.

She stumbled just a bit, still dizzy, and Korkie whirled around and had a blaster out in seconds as the man leaned towards her again.

“Another step towards her and I put a shot through your ugly skull, Duros,” Korkie deadpanned, his voice low and dangerous. The noise level in the bar took a nosedive, and she could practically feel the stares.

The man scowled at the blaster, weighing his options as he glanced around to see everyone staring though their drinks and card games. He spit at Korkie’s feet, then stormed off angrily.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, willing the dizziness to go, and Korkie shot her a concerned look. “Are you alright?” He put a steadying hand on her good shoulder.

She resisted the urge to smack his hand away, frustrated that he created a scene by pulling a blaster. “We need to get out of here, _now._ ”

They hurried out of the bar, checking over their shoulders constantly, ducking through side streets less heavily traveled. When they finally made it back to the ship, the night had grown colder and they were both shivering a bit. Ahsoka’s anger had ebbed some, and she found herself slumping at the small cabin table, her shoulder still raw and stinging in pain.

Korkie slipped into the pilot’s seat without a word, piloting them out of Nal Hutta and plotting a course to Force knew where. Ahsoka just stared dazedly out the viewport,reflecting on the bar incident.

He was so quick to come to her defense, ready to blast someone over it. He was a good man. And that threatened her self-defense mechanism of never letting anyone in, because sooner or later he would try. He would try to get to know her, and continue being kind because that was who he was.

And if she was weak and let him in, it would ended in pain and loss. Hurt. Emptiness. It always did.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but once the ship was in hyperspace Korkie appeared next to her with a medkit.

“I saw that sleemo grabbed your bad shoulder,” he said, almost apologetically. “Can I check it out? Change your bandage for you?”

She nodded begrudgingly at him, pulling her cloak off her shoulders and setting it aside. Korkie settled next to her and carefully peeled back the bandages wrapped there. He gently applied new bacta, and Ahsoka sucked in a breath at the discomfort. Then he neatly wrapped it back up in new gauze, securing it tightly and giving her a soft smile.

“It looks fine, just a little inflamed from that karking idiot. I have some painkillers too if you want. Damn, I should have shot that sleemo—”

“Korkie,” she cut in, her voice sharp. “I _told_ you not to make a scene.”

He frowned at her, his brow creased in confusion. “What? What was I supposed to do?”

“I was handling it,” she said through gritted teeth. “It would’ve been fine.”

“Was I just supposed to let him manhandle you?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I would’ve figured it out! It would’ve been better than pulling a blaster on him!”

“He hurt you!” Korkie shot back, gesturing angrily to her shoulder.

“Well if any Imperial gets wind of that whole encounter I’ll be _dead_ , and probably you along with me. I don’t need you intervening when it means it draws eyes.” Ahsoka glared at him.

“I was just trying to get him to lay off you—”

“Korkie, you aren’t some little hero. This isn’t the Academy. You aren’t a kid on Mandalore anymore fighting for dignity and freedom and I certainly don’t need you trying to come to my aid and be chivalrous.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, even though she knew she was being unnecessarily harsh. “This is the _real_ world, this is the post-war chaos we have to deal with. We’re both wanted. We have to do what it takes to survive, and it doesn’t include playing hero.”

“You know nothing of Mandalore.” Korkie responded, his eyes glinting with anger and a hint of sadness. “My home world has always been at war. After—after Duchess Satine’s death, I couldn’t return. I can never go back. I’m not even welcome on my own home planet.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Ahsoka shot back, thinking painfully of the crumbling, abandoned Jedi temple that surely was haunted with the dying screams of young Jedi and the ghosts of those she once knew. “Get over it.”

Korkie clenched his jaw, still angry but taking in her point. She just needed him to _not_ do foolish, chivalrous things again and it would be fine. He let out a huff and crossed his arms. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You don’t have to be so nice to me, Korkie,” she insisted, her fingers fiddling with the meticulously tied bandages. “We’re just traveling partners. I know we’re old friends, but this is a different time now. Creating attachments is risky, especially on the run. I don’t want to get you killed. I’m at the top of the Empire’s list.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, propping his elbow on the table. “You think I don’t know that? I knew the risk I was taking on when I picked you up in the shipyard.”

“When people get close to me they get hurt,” she said, and in her mind flashed images of the clones, her brothers. Rex, who lost everything because of her. Her friends on Raada that had been killed and tortured because she’d exposed herself as a Force user. The villagers on the planet who’d probably suffered destruction and occupation by the Imperial Star Fleet because she drew their attention to the tiny farming moon. “It’s best not to. That’s why I travel alone.”

“So that’s what this is about,” he said, his voice softening. The anger she’d seen earlier smoothed out of his face. “Ahsoka. I don’t really know what all happened to the Jedi at the end of the war, but I know it was horrible. I know you lost people and you don’t want to talk about it. But I know you. You’re a good person. Even when you were just a Padawan I could tell. You can run off again and you’re certainly free to leave now that our trip to Nal Hutta is done. But I think you could do a lot of good for the rebel cause. And I know that everyone there would be willing to take on the risk of you being there.”

Ahsoka said nothing, just sat there biting her lip, her eyes on the stars streaking by in the viewport as they soared through hyperspace. She felt small. She was unsure. The part of her—the hopeful part, that deep down wanted someone to trust again, to lean on—fought with the rest of her head telling her that it was better to be alone. Better to be alone and die than to bring anyone else down with you.

“You should think about it. Please.”

She finally forced herself to look at him, hating the hopeful glint in his face because she couldn’t bring herself to squash it completely. “I—I’ll think about it.” The admission came quietly and not entirely convincingly. But Korkie gave her a crooked smile, unrelentingly optimistic as usual.

“Good. And, Ahsoka?” He said as he rose from the table to go get some rest. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about what happened, I’ll be here.”

Korkie retired for the night, and Ahsoka continued staring absently out the viewport. She thought the vast blur of oblivion produced by light speed seemed rather inviting—nothing but the yawning jaw of black space and anonymity. Sometimes she wanted to disappear into it.

Ahsoka fell asleep slumped on the table, dreaming of the stars that threatened to swallow her whole and wishing they would.


	5. Chapter 5

The closer they got to the rendezvous with the Alliance, the more nervous she became. Part of her wanted to stay hidden on the ship while Korkie met with them; it would just be easier, and no one would be the wiser to her presence.

There were several reasons she was hesitant to make contact. The risk of a spy within the rebels was a possibility, and she could easily be reported and hunted down. Even if no one snitched, she drew more risk to the Alliance in general—especially if a situation came up where she had to use the Force in the open. She didn’t know how the rebels would react to a former Jedi, or even if they would resent her for not coming forward to help sooner.

She had to admit that the idea of being a part of something larger was enticing. The comfort of solitude, though safer, didn’t offer many chances to make a true impact in the fight against the Empire. Perhaps if she had missions, the gnawing ache of grief in her chest would subside just a bit.

Ahsoka was so deep in thought that she barely noticed Korkie’s presence as he emerged from his quarters and prepared caf. It wasn’t until a mug clinked down in front of her that she looked up, startled out of her reverie. “Thanks.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he grinned, taking an overly eager sip and wincing as he burned his mouth. He fumbled through one of the storage compartments against the wall and came out victoriously with a loaf of bread. “I knew I was keeping this somewhere. Here, looks like you could use some.”

Ahsoka scowled at that but took the piece he handed her without argument. She knew he was right—she was reminded of it each time she glanced in a mirror and saw more of her bones than she was used to. “That’s no way to talk to a girl, Korkie.”

“I was trying to be helpful!” He retorted through a mouthful of the bread. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

She rolled her eyes, the lighthearted mood not quite sticking. Her stomach turned as she tried to come to a decision. It shouldn’t be such a dilemma—she was a skilled fighter, fierce and deadly, and had fought through a war that required her to take many lives. She shouldn’t be sweating about it.

“You’re nervous,” Korkie observed. Ahsoka was vaguely embarrassed that she’d been so easy to read lately. She really should be better at shielding her emotions, but she wasn’t used to being around anybody else. It was a practice that had slipped her mind since she spent her days in solitude.

She shrugged at him. “I guess. I don’t know what to expect. Or if I should even see them.”

Korkie knit his eyebrows. “I think you should at least talk with their leader. I think he can come up with a way to keep you hidden but still help out.”

“Who’s their leader?”

“The one in charge of _this_ rebel cell is a man by the name of Bail Organa,” he answered, and she could tell he was unfamiliar with Bail.

Her heart wrenched a bit. Of course she was glad to hear of people from her old life during the war, that they were alive and well, but it was always accompanied by a deep sadness, a sense of grief for all that had changed since then. Even though only a few years had passed since she’d seen him, it felt like eons ago. The Ahsoka she was back then was not the girl she saw in the reflection now. “I knew him during the war,” was all she mustered.

“Oh?” Korkie prodded, the intrigue in his voice evident at her willing mention of the war.

Ahsoka took a deep breath. “He…he was a good friend of Senator Padme Amidala. She and my master were…close. She was one of my dearest friends. I worked with him on several occasions. He’s a good man.”

She remembered vividly the day she heard the news—Padme was dead, from some vague illness or cause the Empire refused to reveal. She was sure Palpatine had something to do with it, perhaps knowing how close she’d been to Anakin.

She and Rex were in a bar, which was probably foolish given it was a few weeks after Order 66, but it’d been a while since they had a decent meal or drink. They were sitting in the dim corner, concealed under hoods, speaking in hushed tones and praying to the Force no Imperials showed up. Suddenly, the screens above the bartender’s area switched from regular reports to a _breaking news_ banner.

_Senator Amidala of Naboo laid to rest on her home planet. Processional today through the capital of Naboo._

The image of Padme flashed across the screen, beautiful yet so cold and lifeless, arranged in an open, floating casket.

Before she knew it, Ahsoka was stumbling out of the bar and into an alleyway, unable to breathe, her stomach heaving and chest suffocatingly tight. _It couldn’t be. Not Padme too. Why her? Why couldn’t they have let her live?_ Everyone was gone.

Ahsoka threw up what little she had in her stomach into the dirt until she was shaking uncontrollably. She leaned against the wall and sunk to the ground, covering her mouth to stifle the sobs. She was surprised she had any tears left after the Purge. Surprised she even had the emotional capacity to grieve.

She didn’t remember when Rex had found her, only that he sat next to her on the ground and pulled her into his embrace, reminding her rationally to take deep breaths. He held her until she stopped gasping for breath and the tears at last ceased to fall.

_“Why,_ Rex?” She whispered hoarsely. “Why did they have to take everyone?”

He didn’t answer—he didn’t _have_ one, neither of them did. The galaxy they knew had caved in like a star collapsing and exploded into something else; a new, cruel order that had consumed all they knew and loved. Turned neighbors and friends against each other and stole millions of innocent lives.

With enormous effort, Ahsoka turned her attention back to Korkie. “I have a lot of respect for Bail. I’d be more willing to talk to him than someone I didn’t know about…helping the Alliance.”

She could tell he was trying not to look too hopeful, but the glint in his eyes was there. “Well, that settles it then. I won’t tell him you’re with me. It can be a nice surprise for him. I’m sure he needs the good news.”

“I’m not agreeing to help them yet, Korkie,” she warned. “I just said I’ll talk with Bail.”

“Yes, well,” he insisted, “I consider that alone a victory. Has anyone ever told you that you’re absurdly stubborn?”

The barest of smiles ghosted her mouth. “I’ve heard that before.”

The ship gave a sudden lurch as it exited hyperspace, a medium-sized cruiser filling the viewport. The ship’s comms gave a beep requesting a code for landing.

Korkie ran over to enter them, and a voice came over the comms clearing them to land. Before she knew it they were docked in the rebel ship’s hangar bay. She pushed away the small wave of anxiety that ebbed up in her chest.

“You ready?” Korkie asked eagerly, holding out a hand to help her up from the table.

Ahsoka got up herself, ignoring his outstretched palm, but she nodded and smoothed out her robes. The ship’s doors opened and the ramp slid down, and the two of them walked side by side into the rebel base.


	6. Chapter 6

Even though she kept her cloak over her head, Ahsoka squirmed under the eyes of every rebel who passed. No doubt they were curious about the newcomers. She stayed close to Korkie’s side and didn’t speak as they were escorted through the halls by several soldiers. It wasn’t until they were brought into Bail’s office and the door closed behind them that she lowered her hood.

Bail had opened his mouth to address Korkie, but the words died as he registered Ahsoka’s presence. She figured she was the last person he was expecting to see.

“What a pleasant surprise it is, Padawan Tano,” Bail greeted, his eyes warm. He had aged a bit, the change in regime wearing on him as it did to them all. But he still maintained the same proper, welcoming, and intelligent demeanor that was becoming of a former senator.

Ahsoka flinched a bit at her former title. “It’s just Ahsoka now, Senator Organa.”

“Well, then, you just call me Bail please, Ahsoka.” Bail crossed the room and shook both of their hands. “I knew Mr. Kryze here was coming, but I will say I am blown away by this!”

“I hope you don’t mind, Senator Organa,” Korkie said politely, ever the negotiator. “Ahsoka and I were friends during the war, and our paths crossed again recently. I convinced her to join me in seeing what we could both do for the rebellion.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Bail assured. “I’m very glad to see you alive, Ahsoka. I was devastated to hear about the Jedi at the end of the war.”

Ahsoka gave a forced smile, changing the subject as quickly as she could. “I was hoping you could tell me more about your operations and what I could help with if I agreed. I’m concerned about the security risk of a Jedi as part of the Alliance.”

Bail nodded. “Completely understandable. We would conceal your identity of course, and only this particular cell would even be aware of your code name. We keep them all separate to limit the risk of revealing information if anyone is captured or hacked. There’s a lot more logistics, but we can discuss those over some caf, if you prefer?” He waved his hand at the small table in the corner of the office.

The conversation lasted several hours and went through several pots of caf. Many details were ironed out, going back and forth till both parties were satisfied, and at last Ahsoka found herself agreeing to a _short-term_ (she emphasized this to herself mentally) gig with the Alliance, helping Korkie gather intel and bring information and supplies to other anonymous cells. She figured she’d get so annoyed with Korkie after a few months that she wouldn’t need any extra encouragement to end the dealings.

This was how she rationalized it in her head, at least. Help for a bit, then leave before she could create any real trouble or bring exposure to the rebels. Before anyone died because of her. It would give her something to do and distract her from dealing with the pain she kept bottled up inside her.

They were nearing the end of the talk when Korkie threw out a very unexpected question. “Senator Organa. I’m—I’m not sure how much you can tell me, but I was wondering if you knew anything about where I could find former Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Ahsoka almost choked on her drink. She set the cup down and shot a sharp look at him. She remembered him asking her about Obi-Wan briefly on the ship, but as usual she’d shut the conversation down. Why was he now seeking information from Bail?

Bail looked grave, as if recalling a sad memory. It made her uneasy, but she also knew through her bond with Obi-Wan that he was likely still alive. She would’ve felt it, like when she felt her and Anakin’s bond snap. It was like part of her soul had been ripped out of her chest. Her guess was he was in hiding, too, although part of her didn’t really want to know. Had Cody tried to kill him? How had he escaped?

“That is information I’m not permitted to give, I’m afraid. His location must not be disclosed. I am one of the only people with that knowledge.”

Korkie’s face fell a bit. “I was hoping he could tell me more about Duchess Satine and my true lineage. He knew her almost better than I did, and there were a lot of things she never told me.”

Ahsoka frowned at him. “She never told you who your parents were?”

He shook his head. “I knew nothing about them other than a few shallow facts. I’m beginning to have my doubts about if she might really be my real mother, or know who is.”

She exhaled. “That’s big. You and me both want to find Obi-Wan, then.”

“I’ve had questions for him forever. I think Satine meant to tell me more once I grew older, but then…” Korkie trailed off, undoubtedly recalling her brutal death. “Bo Katan might have some helpful info, but I think Master Kenobi is where I’d like to start.”

Bail sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I understand, son. I can at least contact him and tell him you’d like to meet—he can come find _you_ , if he’s willing. But I must warn you, he’s kept very minimal contact with me. He’s keeping very isolated.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Korkie said, nodding. “I appreciate it.”

“You two came at a perfect time,” Bail informed them. “We’ve been struggling to figure out how to protect Force-wielders around the galaxy—not Jedi, but children or other beings who aren’t fully aware of their powers yet. The Empire has been kidnapping them.”

She felt Korkie’s gaze on her as she took in the information, propping her chin on her palm. “Just showing up in star destroyers and having stormtroopers seize them?”

“No,” Bail said. “They have a special unit of assassins and fighters to hunt them down. They are incredibly powerful and wield red lightsabers, like a Sith. We don’t know what species they are.”

“I think I encountered one of them, back on Atorra. It felt Sith, and the Dark side was strong. It was a good fighter—injured me pretty good.” Ahsoka gestured to her still-bandaged shoulder.

“They’re called the Inquisitors.” Bail continued. “We want to figure out who’s training them, and how we can intercept their communications to know where they’ll raid next. If we can know what world they’re headed to next, we can warn them. Get some of the Force children out safely, or give them enough time to go into hiding.”

Ahsoka was intrigued immediately. The thought of more Force users out there, alone and vulnerable to Imperial control, sparked in her an urge to protect them. Jedi or not, they were like her. Besides, who knew what horrible experiments and tortures the Empire was subjecting them to once captured? It made her shiver just thinking about it.

“I want to help,” Ahsoka said, speaking up before she could stop herself.

Bail smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. I think you could be very valuable in tracking them down—we have information, but you can actually _sense them._ And stand a much better fighting chance than one of us with a blaster.”

“The last Inquisitor almost killed Ahsoka!” Korkie protested. “They’re dangerous.”

“Yeah, but I killed it _first_ ,” Ahsoka cut in, annoyed. “Even more the reason why we need to work against them. I’m perfectly capable of fighting a Sith.”

She could tell he wanted to protest again, but she shot him a sideways glare and he decided to save it for later. She didn’t need him being worried over her.

“I know you are,” said Bail. “You’ll be able to make a real difference by tracking them and predicting their moves.”

“I guess that’s our first mission, then,” Korkie said earnestly.

Bail reached over to shake his hand again with vigor. “Welcome to the Rebellion.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I'll be updating in a few days.   
> Please leave a review or anything else, it means the world to me!:)

Ahsoka was quiet as they loaded supplies in the ship, courtesy of Bail, and climbed back in to leave. It was something that had changed about her since the fall of the Jedi—as a Padawan, she often couldn’t stop talking. Her and Anakin would chatter and bicker for hours until it gave Obi-Wan a migraine, and her eagerness spilled over into every conversation she had even with the clones.

Now, she found it difficult to speak as much. The spark inside her was stamped out; she was more comfortable in silence and reflection these days—and more was just silence, not reflecting. She still jammed her emotions down inside her so deep she doubted sometimes if they were still there.

But her emotions were jumbled as she thought about Obi-Wan. Where was he? How did he escape? Why hadn’t he tried to find her prior? She knew it was selfish, but she _needed_ him. Another Jedi, someone who knew Anakin better than even she did. To mourn together. To ask what really happened. Perhaps if Obi-Wan had reached out, she wouldn’t have felt so alone and despondent. She missed her grandmaster dearly.

“Ahsoka?”

She blinked and turned her head to Korkie, sitting in the pilot’s seat, frowning at her. “What is it?”

“You were just really zoned out there. I was asking how you think that went?” Ahsoka didn’t have to ask how _he_ felt—there was color in his cheeks, a grin barely suppressed. He had found what he was looking for and was eager to help the Alliance.

“It went well, I think. I trust Bail. And I want to put an end to those Inquisitors.” Ahsoka thought of the one she killed on Atorra, the thick, menacing aura of the Dark side that they exuded. They were frightening creatures, no doubt molded by the Empire itself to put an end to rogue Force users once and for all.

“They’re pretty tough, but I think we can take them.” He agreed.

Ahsoka frowned. “I was caught off guard that day. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

He nodded, ever the faithful in her. “So…Master Kenobi? Is that what you’re distracted about?”

Ahsoka pulled her knees into her chest, propping her chin and focusing her eyes on the vacuum of hyperspace flying by. “I just…I haven’t really allowed myself to have faith that I’ll see other Jedi again. Being alone for a long time, it kind of felt like I was the only one left. And Obi-Wan is one of the best people I’ve ever met. I just don’t know what it will be like to see him again. I think it will be hard.”

“How did he escape Order 66?”

Ahsoka flinched minutely. “I don’t know, Korkie. It’s difficult to imagine. Seeing him will bring back a lot of memories.”

“Bad ones?” He prodded gently. She shook her head.

“Not really. Good ones. Some of the best times of my life were during the war, with Anakin and Obi-Wan. But remembering the past hurts. It just reminds me of everything I lost.” With a pang, she thought of Rex and all he lost as well. She sent a quick prayer into the Force that he was alive and safe.

“I feel the same way about Mandalore,” Korkie told her, fingers drumming on the control dashboard. “It’s my home, and I love it. I have many fond memories of it. But it’s always been involved in a war. It has seen so much pain and suffering. I have lost many friends and family. And I can’t go back.”

Ahsoka imagined what it must be like to have blood family and a home planet, instead of a religious temple and strict rules and crooked morals. And then to lose it all. It was a different sort of grief. It must be terrible.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, hating how hollow the words sounded. She didn’t like it when he gave the same empty apologies to her, so why was she doing it now?

She realized maybe it was because she was starting to trust him a bit more. Maybe even care about his well-being. His kindness was relentless, and he was proving to be more selfless each day. He had kept her safe in a galaxy where harboring a Force user was a death sentence, and brought her to the Alliance to find a greater purpose.

It was those reasons Ahsoka kept reminding herself of, when she was tempted to abandon him, to run off again and be alone and miserable. Reminding herself that having a friend during what seemed like the end of the world was a good thing. Maybe she didn’t have to push him away.

Maybe Korkie Kryze was not that bad.

Maybe she could trust him.


	8. Chapter 8

The ship was going down again.

She saw the faces of the clones pursuing her, felt the cold barrel of Rex’s blaster in between her shoulder blades as he pushed her forward. Different scenes from that day, blurring and smearing together like a painting submerged in water before it fully dried.

Anakin’s cries piercing through her brain as the Force howled in pain. Rex, firing point-blank at her.

Falling. The ship was careening out of the sky, into the moon, and this time she didn’t get out on time. She was trapped, feeling the twisted metal crush her and the searing fire singe her face. She was burning, and all she could hear was the cries of her brothers as they slowly died around her. They were burning and she couldn’t get to them on time.

Ahsoka tried to get out of the wreckage, like she did every time this dream occurred, but it pinned her and the flames leaped closer and closer. Fives appeared next to her—Fives, who was long-dead, but somehow here still.

“Fives,” she whimpered. “Help me.”

His eyes were cold and empty as he turned to look at her. “Why would I help you?” He snarled. “You killed my brothers.”

“No!” She sobbed. “I didn’t!”

“It’s entirely your fault, Ahsoka. You should have never come back. We’re all dead because of you.”

“Fives!” She screamed as a wave of flames engulfed him. His body twitched while it burned, and she was still trapped. Bodies were falling around her.

“You did this,” Rex’s voice rings in her head. “Your fault.”

Ahsoka woke with a scream, sitting upright and covering her mouth to try and stifle the noise. A cold sweat soaked her body as she shivered violently, taking desperate inhales of air in an attempt to calm down. She pressed her hands into her eyes and rubbed the faces of her dead brothers away.

But when she opened them, they were still there.

She reached over and flicked the light on in her narrow quarters, hoping the lack of darkness would help banish the shadows. She continued to take shuddering breaths, her shoulders heaving.

A sudden, urgent knock at the door made her jump. The disturbance in the Force from her dream had distracted her from noticing the presence.

“Go away, Korkie,” she called hoarsely, the words unsteady. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you alright?” His voice was solemn and concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“Ahsoka, can I come in, please?”

She wanted to groan at the persistence and dismiss at him more forcefully, maybe yell a bit, but she just didn’t have it in her. Her nerves were shot and she was struggling to breathe. So what could it hurt?

She waved a hand at the lock on the door and slid it open, greeted by a concerned Korkie. His hair was tangled from sleep and he still looked a bit out of it, but the crease in his forehead was obvious. “Hey. What’s going on?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, to her surprise. She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“I heard you screaming, Ahsoka. That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she murmured, her breath hitching.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes falling on her shaking hands. He took one in his, gently, squeezing. “Take a deep breath. You’re safe.”

His hand was warm and grounding. Ahsoka squeezed back, doing as he said, and at last her heart stopped pounding quite so hard. Korkie grabbed an extra blanket from a cupboard and unfolded it, draping it over her still-shaking shoulders. She leaned back against the bunk, sitting in the silence for a minute.

“It’s the same dream every time,” she said finally, feeling as surprised as he looked when she spoke up willingly. “About the day of the purge.”

He held his gaze steady, and she surprised herself again by slipping her hand back into his. It kept her in the present, physical proof that she wasn’t back on that doomed ship.

“What happens?” Korkie asked softly.

“We’re on the ship. When the order was given, I was on a Star Destroyer with all my men. They attacked me, the brothers I had known for years. Hunted me down. I had to let Maul out to create a diversion. He ended up taking out the ship—Rex and I managed to get out before it crashed. All our brothers went down with it.”

Korkie held her gaze, even as her voice broke.

“In the dream,” Ahsoka whispered, “I can never get out on time. I’m trapped with the bodies. I burn just like my brothers. I suffer the same fate they did.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ahsoka,” he told her gently. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

“But I could’ve,” she rasped. “I could have done more. They burned because of me.” She felt fresh tears fill her eyes. _Force_ , she missed her boys. What she would do to bring them back. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Kriff, was she embarrassing herself in front of him. _Pull it together,_ she wanted to scream at herself.

But she couldn’t. In that moment, her mind a mess from the nightmare and grief, all she wanted was someone to hold her and tell her it would be okay. Even if it was a lie.

So Ahsoka leaned into Korkie’s shoulder and let out a sob, and his arm went around her without hesitation, and she let herself be broken with this man from her past who she never thought she would see again. A man who was kind and selfless and too good for her, even as a friend. She let herself be comforted by him even though she knew she didn’t deserve it.

She would never deserve it, but she allowed herself to fall asleep on his shoulder anyways, feeling safe for the first time in a while.

—

When the morning came, Ahsoka was somewhat relieved that her room was empty, Korkie nowhere to be found. She was embarrassed that her outburst had woken him, probably robbing him of much-needed sleep. Why should her nightmares keep him up?

Ahsoka got dressed and found Korkie in the kitchen area, preparing two cups of caf with the same serene morning smile as always. Wordlessly, she slipped into the booth and waited for him to finish. She didn’t know what to say.

“Good morning to you, too,” he called without turning around.

She ignored the greeting. “How much longer in hyperspace?” She drummed her fingers on the table impatiently. As much as she’d hated the last interaction with the Inquisitors, she was itching to get back in the action again and spend less time cooped up on a ship—even if it was with Korkie Kryze.

“Just about an hour,” he answered patiently, handing her the mug. Ahsoka surprised herself by actually thanking him for it, eager for the caffeine. “How are you feeling?”

Ahsoka wanted to ignore the question, like she did most of the time with him. But she reminded herself of how he came to her room to check on her last night. How much he actually cared. Maybe she should be less of a jerk to him during the daytime, too. “I’m feeling better. I…I have nightmares most nights, so I’m used to functioning on less sleep. It’s just a part of life now. Even before the Purge, I had bad dreams and visions as a Padawan.”

Korkie nods, sitting next to her. “I’m sure fighting in a war left its mark.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Yeah. I was fourteen when I started. Who in their right mind puts a fourteen-year-old on the battlefield in charge of troopers?”

He chuckled a bit. “The Jedi were always a bit unorthodox. But good people, most of them. Some of the best.” He looked at her as he said this, and she averted her gaze at the compliment.

“They were all right,” she responded, but even as she said it her heart ached for the familiar halls of the Temple, the voices of the clones. “I miss them.”

“Don’t hesitate to come get me if you ever need me at night, okay?” He told her softly. “I’m here for you.”

Ahsoka felt her heart shuttering back up again, as if the brief moments of vulnerability were too much for it. She fell silent, managing a half-nod.

Korkie looked like he wanted to say something else, which she _really_ didn’t want, but before he could the navicomputer gave a beep and the ship jolted out of hyperspace over the brown, desert rock that was their destination.

“Welcome back to Tattooine,” Korkie announced.


	9. Chapter 9

Tattooine was blazing hot and suffocating, the wind throwing sand into their faces and the twin suns overhead beating down on their backs as they disembarked the ship. Ahsoka secured her hood and pulled her mask up over her mouth and nose to protect them from the sand.

Not much had changed since the last time she was here.

As she and Korkie strolled through the streets of the small settlement, disguised and avoiding any large populated areas, Ahsoka was brought back to her last encounter here with Jabba and Count Dooku, Anakin racing to the Hutt’s palace to return the baby and rescue her. Force, it seemed like it was five lifetimes ago. Her and Anakin were just beginning to bond, the start of a deep and seemingly unbreakable tie.

She missed him so much.

She brought her mind back to the present, focusing on the task at hand as she scanned the streets for Imperial presence. Bail had forwarded them intercepted transmissions stating that another Inquisitor was being sent to Tattooine to hunt down a Force child.

Ahsoka resisted the instinct to rest her hand on her saber at the sight of an Imperial ship coming in to land in the center of the village square. They ducked into an alleyway, observing as an Inquisitor strutted out of the ship, flanked by a squadron of troopers and this time, without a hood.

She shivered, feeling like she was staring into a black hole of the Dark side. This Inquisitor was built similarly to the one she had killed, and appeared to be male. His teeth were sharp and bared as he shouted orders, his eyes yellow and glinting with wrath. After a minute, a small speeder was produced and they raced away on it, into the open desert—perhaps to a different nearby settlement, wherever the child was supposedly to be found.

She grit her teeth as an anger swept through her. She was done letting the Sith kill her people.

“Let’s go,” she hissed to Korkie, standing up and resting her hand on her saber at last. It would feel good to kill another one of the creatures. To help someone after being helped herself. “We’ll steal a speeder and follow them. Cut them off.”

And this time, she would be ready.

“Ahsoka,” Korkie said, reaching out a hand to stop her. “Be careful. Those things are dangerous.”

She gave him as reassuring of a glance she could muster. “I will. Just stay out of his way. I’ll take care of him.”

Stealing a speeder bike was relatively easy, and she only had to knock out a few troopers to get it. She hopped in front, Korkie behind her, and pushed the bike to maximum speed as they broke out of the settlement and tracked the Inquisitor’s trail.

It didn’t take too long to catch up with them, and Korkie took out the stormtroopers on the bikes with his blaster. The Inquisitor whirled around, snarling, his snakelike eyes narrowing on Ahsoka as they pursued him. Just as she’d hoped, he slowed down and spun his bike to cut them off. Stopping to fight would give them a better chance of getting rid of the Inquisitor before they could even discover the child. Her muscles itched for a fight, her adrenaline soaring. The instincts she’d honed for years ready to eliminate the threat.

Ahsoka put the bike in neutral and leaped off, flipping into the air and igniting her saber as she landed. She took a breath, connecting to the Force, taking in the Light and Dark particles that sang through the air. And then the Inquisitor charged.

The sheer force of this Inquisitor was much more intense than the last one—she guessed it was because he wasn’t expecting their pursuit and wasn’t trying to bring her in alive. This one wanted to kill her, was frustrated because they were delaying his mission. She could sense fear underlying his actions—fear of this _Lord Vader_ creature who commanded them, most likely. The punishment for failure to capture the child.

Still, his strikes were aggressive and jarred her muscles as she blocked them, playing defense until she could get the upper hand. _Patience,_ she reminded herself. His fear and anger would make him slip up, eventually. And she wanted to get him to talk if he could, figure out more information about his master.

“Silly little Jedi,” he snarled, lunging again at her with his double blades. She missed her shoto saber more than ever. “Your kind are dead. What are you trying to accomplish?”

“Who is your master?” Ahsoka grunted, barely dodging a swipe that would’ve beheaded her. “Who is this Lord Vader?”

At that, the Inquisitor smiled his rotting teeth, a twisted and menacing expression. “Don’t you know, little Jedi?”

“I’m not a karking Jedi.” She hissed, slamming her saber against his with such force that he looked surprised, if but for a millisecond.

He gave a low chuckle. “I do believe you knew him in your past life, before the Empire purged you disgusting creatures from the face of the galaxy.”

An ice cold feeling shot through her—she didn’t know who he was referring to, but the idea of a Sith Lord being someone she used to know before Order 66…it was horrible. Who would do something like that? A former Jedi? It was too awful to even think about.

The brief second of distraction was enough for the Inquisitor to throw her across the sand with the Force, and she barely had time to roll to her feet before he was on her again, bearing down with greed in his yellow eyes. She heard blaster shots echoing, and he grunted in pain.

“Your foolish friend is trying to help you,” he growled. “How sweet.” 

_No,_ Ahsoka thought in a panic. Korkie stood no real fighting chance against him, not without the Force or sabers. She had to keep the Inquisitor away from him.

She lunged at him again, and he dodged easily, reaching out a gloved hand and squeezing her throat. Ahsoka gasped, her grip on her lightsaber slipping, her airflow cut off. It felt like two iron clamps were around her throat, and pain lanced through her neck as she struggled to breathe.

Damn, what was it with Inquisitors and the chokehold?

“It’s been a while since I’ve killed a Jedi.” He spat. “My master will be most pleased.”

“I don’t think so.” Korkie’s voice came from behind him, and Ahsoka wanted to scream at him to run but she couldn’t. No sound came out except her strangled noise of struggle.

He fired his blaster, and she had to admit he was a good shot. Her vision was blurring, but she saw the Inquisitor’s other hand flick, his lightsaber deflecting a bolt backwards.

Korkie grunted as it hit him in the abdomen, collapsing to the ground, and panic shot through her. He was going to kill him.

Ahsoka summoned her strength, begging the Force for help, and slashed her lightsaber clean through the Inquisitor’s extended arm. He screeched in pain and Ahsoka was dropped to her knees, the immense pressure on her throat subsiding. She choked in a huge breath, squinting as her vision cleared a bit, and didn’t hesitate.

She attacked with a new vigor, a fury at him for harming Korkie, who was lying motionless in the sand. How _dare_ the Inquisitor harm him?

The Inquisitor was angry, too, but it was a blind rage because she had cut off half his arm. The rage and the newly arm-less look made him sloppy, unbalanced. It wasn’t long before she had the upper hand, knocking him to the ground with a harsh blow across the chest.

He was wheezing now, accepting his fate. “Lord Vader will find you,” he gasped. “You can’t run forever, little apprentice.”

_Apprentice?_

Ahsoka swung without hesitation and cut off the Inquisitor’s head. It thumped into the sand and stared up at her as his body slumped over.

“Korkie.” She said, her heart pounding as she ran over to him. The shot had hit him in the side, near his ribs, so it was less likely it had damaged any vital organs. Still, she needed to get him out of the sun and treat it.

She swore, remembering all their medical supplies were back on the ship. It would take too long, and who knew how many more Imperial troops were swarming that settlement?

It was best to look for a nearly village or home and seek help.

Korkie let out a groan, eyes fluttering. “‘Soka?” Her heart stuttered a bit at the nickname coming from his mouth.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she assured him, placing a hand on his cheek. Her voice was hoarse and scratchy from the chokehold. “I killed the Inquisitor. We need to get you some medical attention, okay?” 

“You…okay?” He murmured, his hand coming up to rest on hers.

“I’m fine. You were playing hero again,” she teased. He laughed a little, wincing as he did. “Come on, let’s get you on the speeder and we’ll go find some help.”

Ahsoka hauled him up, putting his arm over her shoulders and supporting most of his weight as they walked to the bike and loaded up. She hopped back in the front, and he leaned heavily against her as he tried to stay coherent.

“Stay awake, Korkie,” she commanded. “You’re going to be fine.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist as she accelerated, and she could not help the way her stomach fluttered a bit. _Where were these feelings coming from?_

Ahsoka reached out in the Force as they drove, searching for other lifeforms nearby. Her senses honed in on a small house hidden in the hills—the presence was distant and cloaked, like they were purposely hiding and trying to mask their life signature. Like they didn’t want to be found.

Yet it felt so _familiar._

Ahsoka wracked her brains trying to identify it, but it felt like trying to remember a nonsensical dream after waking up—the more she tried, the further away it slipped.

Regardless of whether or not the being wanted to be found, Ahsoka had detected it and felt no Dark side radiating from it. And Korkie needed help, so she was willing to knock on whoever’s door she had to.

She slowed the speeder down in front of the dwelling, which was so camouflaged and tucked away in the rolling sand dunes that anyone not using the Force to find it would never know it was there. She still couldn’t place the signature or why the Force seemed to be drawing her here.

“Korkie?” She said softly as she got off, steadying him and helping him lean on the handlebars so he didn’t fall off. “Stay here, okay? I’m going to see if I can get you some help.”

Korkie nodded dazedly, and she took it as a good sign that he was still awake.

Ahsoka walked up to the door, the Force getting louder in her mind as she did so. Whoever was behind this door, she was ready to figure out why she’d been led here.

She knocked and was greeted with silence as she waited. She could sense someone was home, and tried a few more times.

When it was obvious they weren’t going to come to the door—why would they, when the Empire was here on Tattooine today?—Ahsoka tried the handle. Locked.

She took a glance back at Korkie, pale and slumped on the bike, and made a decision. With as much force as her sore body could muster, she slammed her shoulder into the door and forced it open, being thankful it was evidently an old one and worn down by the elements.

It swung open and her eyes fell on the interior of the little house—small and quaint, neat and orderly with a sparsely furnished kitchen and not much else. She assumed there were more rooms in the back. She took a tentative step inside.

She reached out in the Force, sending a shove mentally to whoever was there and hoping she sounded friendly. That they didn’t attack.

The second she thought this, she heard the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber being ignited from behind the door. Hers was out on instinct before she could think about it, whirling around and pointing back at the mysterious resident.

Standing there looking back at her was the last person in the galaxy she expected to see.

“Obi-Wan?” She gasped, incredulous. Her heart soared and at last the nudging familiarity in the Force clicked into place.

Obi-Wan smiled, the same one she’d always known, even though he looked years older. “Hello, dear one.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, now we're really getting to the "slow burn" part of things. Mwahahahaha.   
> As always, reviews and/or suggestions are very welcomed! Happy New Year to all my lovely readers.

Ahsoka’s brain was firing a million miles a second, completely shocked. How was he here? She didn’t understand.

But she did know she had missed him terribly, so much it made her heart ache, and seeing him now felt unreal. Ahsoka surged forward and threw her arms around him without hesitation, and he wrapped her tightly in an embrace as she tried not to sob.

“I never thought I would see you again,” she whispered, burying her face in his robes. “I thought—I thought maybe I was the only one left.”

Obi-Wan patted her back comfortingly. “I know, Ahsoka. I felt that way too some days. I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re alive.”

Ahsoka gave him another tight squeeze before pulling back, and he set his hands on her shoulders and looked her up and down. She knew he was likely taking in how thin she’d grown, how tired she looked.

Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile. “The galaxy has not been kind to us, has it?” He had aged too, his hair beginning to show streaks of gray, the lines on his face more pronounced. He, too, was exhausted with the weight of living.

With a start, Ahsoka realized she’d been so stunned to see him that she’d forgotten the real reason she was here. “Shit. Obi-Wan, I need your help. I’m with Korkie Kryze.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and something else. Longing, perhaps, or grief. It was no secret he had been in love with Duchess Satine, and she imagined that the memory of her nephew was somewhat painful.

He frowned a bit. “What happened? And how did you two end up together?”

“I can explain later, but we came here hunting down an Inquisitor. He was looking for a Force sensitive child.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Did you find the Inquisitor?”

Ahsoka nodded. “I killed him. But not before he shot Korkie. He needs some medical aid, and we left our supplies on the ship.”

Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Not to worry. I have some supplies here. Why don’t you bring him in?”

After so much time of being on her own and having to make decisions constantly for survival, it was nice to have someone tell her what to do like she was used to as a Padawan. To have someone older and calmer helping out. While she thrived under Anakin’s reckless, unconventional methods of teaching, Obi-Wan had always been a stoic and wise presence to balance out the three of them.

Ahsoka was relieved to find Korkie still sitting on the bike, looking a bit pale but very much awake. “You’ll never guess who I found,” she told him, helping him down. She remembered that he, too, had wanted to find Obi-Wan, but for markedly different reasons. “Come on, it’s safe. Let’s get you inside.”

“I’ve had enough surprises as of late,” Korkie muttered, and she stifled a laugh at his grumpiness.

“I think you’ll like this one,” she assured him.

—

Once everyone had reunited, Korkie almost as surprised as Ahsoka had been, it was clear that him and Obi-Wan’s conversation needed to happen later.

“He needs to rest,” Ahsoka interrupted, while the two were still conversing. “And I need to treat that wound.”

Obi-Wan showed them to the spare room, where he brought in a medkit. “Do you need me to—?”

“I can do it.” Ahsoka said firmly. She wouldn’t be able to relax unless she treated the wound herself. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

He gave her a knowing smile and ducked out of the room. “I’ll be out here when you’re done. I’m sure we have things to discuss. I’ll put on some tea.”

Once the door was shut, Ahsoka pried open the medkit and pulled out bandages, sterilizer spray, and bacta patches. It was a well-supplied kit; Obi-Wan obviously stayed prepared around here. It was very much like him.

“Alright, let’s see the damage,” she said, pushing aside his robes. “Let’s get this off.”

She helped him pull his shirt off and tried not to stare at his well-toned muscles. Despite sharing a ship for the last few weeks, it was the first time she’d ever seen him even slightly undressed. It was intimate, and he was quiet as she cleaned the wound, wincing only occasionally.

“You doing alright?” She asked softly, opening up the bacta patch to apply it. “I don’t think you need stitches, which is good.”

His eyes trailed down her face and fell on her neck, and he reached out and gently brushed his fingers across the bruised skin. “He hurt you,” he murmured.

Ahsoka flinched a bit—her throat had already started to bruise and darken, and it was uncomfortable to talk. Korkie jerked his hand back, looking upset.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. “I know you’re mad at me for getting involved in the fight.”

“It was foolish of you to take on a Sith with a blaster, Korkie.” Her anger had long subsided, but he was right—she was still frustrated and worried sick over him because of it. “You always get involved on my behalf and risk yourself. It’s like you don’t think I can handle myself.”

“It’s not that!” He protested. “I promise I know you’re more than able. You’re amazing.”

“Than what is it?” She asked impatiently, temporarily forgetting about dressing his wound. “Why are you putting yourself in unnecessary risk for your _travel partner?_ ”

He looked confused. “Ahsoka, you’re my _friend_. I care about you. A lot. I haven’t had anyone to keep me company for years. I would risk anything for you.”

She fell silent, wrapping the bandages around his abdomen and feeling the heat from his skin near hers as she did. Maybe it was time she recognized they were more than just companions. She’d gotten better at not pushing him away, but saying these things out loud was different. It was harder for her.

So she ignored it and finished dressing the wound, packing up the medkit neatly and averting her gaze. She brushed her pants off and stood to leave.

“Ahsoka—” he called, and his hand reached out and caught her wrist. It sent chills down her spine. “Wait.”

Ahsoka sighed and crossed her arms at him. “You need to rest.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said stiffly, hating the way she was shutting down without even meaning to. She wanted to let him in more than anything, but the fear of continuing to do so was stronger. “I need to go talk to Obi-Wan.”

She left the room feeling worse than she had before.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one for today, but more coming up soon! Please leave reviews/kudos if you feel so inclined. It genuinely makes my day!

Obi-Wan had started a fire in the small fireplace near the kitchen, most likely to prepare for sundown where the desert’s temperature would plummet. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth when she noticed he was heating a kettle over it for tea. Some things never changed.

Ahsoka shut the door to Korkie’s room behind her and sat heavily at the table, sighing as the weariness from the day’s events truly sunk in. She couldn’t sleep yet, though. There was much to discuss, and she wasn’t eager to be alone with her thoughts anyway. She fidgeted as Obi-Wan prepared the tea in silence.

“You know, Ahsoka,” he said finally, “Korkie will be just fine.”

She raised an eye marking at him. “I know.”

“You’re worried about him,” he observed. “You care for the boy.”

Ahsoka flushed, but he just smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I—we’re friends. I’m figuring it out.” She found herself stumbling over the words, still unable to lie to her old Grandmaster even after all this time.

“Ah, I see,” the man chuckled. “But I think you’d best figure it out. If you care for him, if you love him…well, there isn’t much of that left in this galaxy. Don’t take it for granted. You will regret it, I think.” At this, Obi-Wan looked deeply saddened. If she had to guess, he was thinking of Satine.

Not that she wanted to bring up painful memories for him, but she was reminded of how Korkie wanted to find Obi-Wan and ask him about his true parentage. She understood wanting to know the truth about where you came from; although she never really knew her birth parents, they did occasionally cross her mind. She wondered where they were, if they had survived the Clone Wars. If they were happy.

If they ever missed her.

“He has a good heart,” Ahsoka finally said. “I’d be dead without him.”

Obi-Wan gave her a wry smile. “There’s not many friends left in this new galaxy, are there?”

Ahsoka wanted so desperately to ask if he knew what had happened to Anakin, but the words caught in her throat. She felt like she was choking on air every time she tried to speak it aloud. She was so profoundly afraid of knowing the truth that the possibility of it was like a vice preventing her from bringing it up. She didn’t know if her heart could bear to know.

She settled for asking for the answers Korkie had sought for a long time. “Korkie was hoping you had some information about who his biological parents are. Or were. You and Satine were…close, I know.”

A soul-deep pain seemed to reflect in Obi-Wan’s eyes. He sighed, gathering his thoughts. “We were close, indeed. Before…before she died, she told me she loved me. I felt the same. I had for years. I wished I’d have known sooner. I…I think sometimes, had she asked, I would have left the Order for her.”

Ahsoka’s heart contracted at the statement—it took her breath away, the confession, from Obi-Wan of all people. A love that would make Obi-Wan Kenobi leave the Order. How could he have loved someone so strongly and her never know? It was like she was discovering a whole new side of him, one she’d never known when she was a Padawan.

“Do you know who Korkie’s parents were?” The question seemed to hang in the air, in the dim light of the kitchen as Obi-Wan rubbed his beard and his lips twitched at the question. He glanced back at the closed door where Korkie was resting and heaved a weary sigh.

He lowered his voice and Ahsoka had to lean forward a bit to hear, confused at why he was being so secretive. “I do. But it’s important he does not find out.”

Ahsoka frowned at him. “What?”

“It could put him in danger, Ahsoka. And others.” Obi-Wan said, and his voice was firm but almost pleading. She couldn’t make sense of it. Why wouldn’t he want Korkie to know?

“Tell me,” she demanded, surprised at how stern the request came out of her mouth. It was rooted in a defensiveness, a protective instinct for Korkie. He was so kind to her and rarely asked anything of her—she could get this one piece of information for him.

Korkie didn’t mention his parents too often, but she knew that it was a question that hung over him often. She could tell by the way his voice would waver slightly when discussing it, the way he had looked crestfallen when Bail told them they weren’t allowed to contact Obi-Wan for more information. She would want to know if she were him. It was the least she could do.

The silence hung in the air as she stared him down. The new dynamic between them was hard to get used to—no longer was he here Grandmaster, giving her orders and babysitting her and Anakin on missions and at the Temple. They were not Jedi anymore. They were no one, just two friends from the old world order struggling to survive in the new one they’d found themselves in.

Finally, he said, “You can’t tell him.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “I can’t _not_ tell him. What are you talking about?” She was growing irritated now. “Obi-Wan, what could possibly be so bad that he isn’t allowed to know about it? You aren’t making any sen—”

“Ahsoka,” he interrupted quietly. “I learned after Satine’s death that Korkie was her and I’s son.”

The mug of tea slipped from Ahsoka’s hands, cracking in half on the floor and splattering across the dirt.


	12. Chapter 12

“I’m sorry… _what?”_ She exclaimed, completely ignoring the broken mug on the floor. Her brain felt like it was short-circuiting as she tried to absorb the information. She wondered if maybe all this time alone in the desert had gotten to Obi-Wan’s mind.

“Before the Clone Wars,” he said, “when I was a Padawan, my master and I spent a great deal of time on Mandalore for a peacekeeping mission. The Duchess and I…well, let’s just say I did things I was afraid of the Council knowing. I never told anyone. But I was very taken with her.”

It was so hard to imagine Obi-Wan falling in love with someone, especially on a mission with his master and even more so to the point where it resulted in a child. She had always pictured him as the quintessential Jedi, the rule-follower and stern Council member. It was _Anakin_ who broke rules, Anakin who had been in a relationship with Padme during the entire war.

But she had seen the look in her grandmaster’s eyes whenever he would mention Satine. It made her heart ache for him.

Finally, she gathered her thoughts and was a little less stupefied. “I—she never told you?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I assume she did not want me to be distracted from my role as a Jedi, especially after I took on Anakin and the Council role. Besides, she knew the Jedi would be upset at the breaking of the Code. And then the Clone Wars broke out, and the power struggles on Mandalore…” he sighed. “I think there were a lot of reasons she kept him from me.”

“But Korkie’s always thought of Satine as his aunt,” she objected.

“Because that’s what she told him,” Obi-Wan responded. “It would not look good for the queen of Mandalore to have an illegitimate child. So she raised him as her nephew and that’s what everyone has always believed. The prevailing theory was that his parents died in one of Mandalore’s battles, which is pretty believable. That planet has always been a mess of conflict.”

“So…you’re all that Korkie has left.” The realization hit her hard. Not only that, but Obi-Wan was all _Ahsoka_ had left. The weight of it felt unbearable.

“Ahsoka,” he told her sharply. “He can’t know.”

She shot him a look. “You’re joking.”

“It’s for his safety. How would the Empire react if they knew a fugitive Jedi had a secret son? He’s already running around with you, putting him in jeopardy.”

Ahsoka knew he didn’t mean to be hurtful, but her cheeks flushed anyways. “He made his choice to keep me around, Master.”

“I know, my dear, but he will be safer not knowing about me. The less people who know, the better.” He looked heartbreakingly sad, in that moment, and she figured that it was probably painful for him, too—to know that your whole life you’d had a son, but by the time you finally found out it was too dangerous to have a relationship with him.

“He wants to know so badly,” she responded, biting her lip. “It’ll kill me.”

“They will kill _him_ if they ever find out, Ahsoka,” he reminded her.

Ahsoka scrubbed a hand over her face, her nerves frayed and her mind tired. But she agreed at last with his statement, knowing it was the best way to protect Korkie. As much as it pained her to keep a secret from him, she couldn’t bear the idea of losing him.

“Okay. I promise.” She told him, and Obi-Wan reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, dear one.” He leaned back in his chair and finished off his tea, the firelight casting shadows on his grim face. “I also cannot risk him returning to find me. I have…duties here, something to look after. I can’t leave, but Korkie coming back to seek me out would be dangerous.”

Ahsoka remembered how secretive Bail had been when giving them information about Obi-Wan. It had to be something Rebellion-related, then, but she knew it was pointless to ask. Still, it was ironic that he was on Tattooine of all places.

“The child the Inquisitor was after—” Ahsoka started to ask.

“Is safe, for now.” He assured. “I have been aware of the child for some time now. I watch over it. But I try not to draw any attention, which is why I assume Bail sent you to deal with the Inquisitor.”

“We weren’t supposed to find you,” she gathered.

He nodded. “You were not. But the Force is funny like that, sometimes.” He smiled wryly at her. “You two should leave in the morning, in case any more Imperials are still looking around. But you can certainly stay tonight. You look exhausted, dear.”

Ahsoka rubbed at her eyes and stifled a yawn. “Of course. Thank you.”

“I only have that one extra room, unfortunately.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Not to worry.”

Ignoring the slight smirk that her former grandmaster gave her, she cleaned up the pieces of the broken cup and pushed her chair in as she stood up. “We can talk more tomorrow morning.”

He smiled again at her. “Goodnight, Ahsoka.”

Quietly, she crept back into the room where Korkie was sprawled, sound asleep, on the large bed. Some of the color had returned to his face, and his face was smoothed out and peaceful as he slept.

Ahsoka was too tired to care much about modesty—the day’s events had drained her significantly, from the fight with the Inquisitor and the stress of Korkie’s injury and the conversation with Obi-Wan. As softly as she could, she climbed into the bed next to him, groaning a bit as her muscles ached. Her ribs throbbed, likely just as bruised as her throat was. The desert’s temperature had dropped with the setting sun, and she shivered.

“‘Soka?” Korkie mumbled, still half-asleep and woozy from the painkillers she’d given him. She felt bad for being angry at him earlier.

She rolled over to look at him. “I’m alright. Go back to sleep.”

Slowly, he pulled the large blanket draped over him across her shoulders so that it was on them both. Then he moved closer, barely inches away from her. She could smell the bacta she’d applied earlier, could just make out the Tattooine dust still streaked on his face.

“Night, ‘Soka,” he murmured, immediately passing out again. Ahsoka couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, and was asleep almost immediately.

Not a single nightmare came to haunt her.


	13. Chapter 13

Ahsoka rolled over in the morning, squinting against the harsh desert sun peeking through the small window of the room, to find an empty bed. A brief panic went through her, simply out of instinct, but as she sat up and rubbed her eyes she realized Korkie was likely already up and in the kitchen area. She was being irrational, and she let out a sigh of relief as she scolded herself for it.

She felt refreshed and rested, which was rare for her. It was hard to believe she hadn’t been plagued by a nightmare for an entire sleep cycle—it was something she certainly didn’t take for granted. She pulled her robes on and entered the kitchen to the sweet smell of caf and voices.

Obi-Wan and Korkie were sitting at the table, enjoying a cup of caf and discussing the current affairs of the galaxy. It was so _normal_ that she cracked a grin at the sight, plopping down next to Korkie and accepting a mug from him. They sat close, closer than normal, their elbows touching. And yet, she didn’t mind the proximity. It brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, grounding her.

“It seems the two of you slept well,” Obi-Wan said casually, and Ahsoka almost choked into her coffee. Surely he didn’t think they—

But Korkie was slightly red as well, stammering, “Um—yes, thank you for having us…”

“I was just giving Korkie the limited information I have on his biological parents,” Obi-Wan informed her, saving them by switching up the subject. He gave her a pointed look, as if she needed a reminder about their conversation last night. It was something she wouldn’t ever forget; a knowledge that would weigh on her for a long, long time.

The truth that her friend was searching for and wanted desperately, but the truth that could bring great harm to him if he knew. He could never know.

She nodded, going along with it like she’d promised. “And?”

“He never knew them, but he confirmed they were killed on Mandalore a long time ago,” Korkie said, and she was glad at least to see that he looked like he believed his own words. “There were records of it at the palace before my aunt’s death, and they were probably destroyed during one of the regime changes.”

She gave him a sympathetic look she hoped was believable. “I’m sorry, Korkie.”

He shrugged. “I thought that might have been what happened. Not a lot of relatives left in the galaxy for anyone, it seems.”

The only sound now was her fingers tapping impatiently on the table. She knew Obi-Wan wanted them to leave soon, as it was dangerous for two Force users to be together for too long. And yet…

She couldn’t leave without knowing. Obi-Wan of all people had to know the answer. And she was horribly afraid of what it was, but wasn’t it better to know?

“Obi-Wan,” she said suddenly, drawing a deep breath. “What happened to Anakin?”

The man stilled, gripping his mug till his fingers were white, his face blanching. He looked like Ahsoka had slapped him. His expression was filled with grief and…something else. Something entirely different than what would be there if it was simply a matter of Anakin being shot down by a clone.

“Ahsoka.” His voice was nearly a whisper. “There are some things you’re better off not—”

“He was my _master_ ,” she interrupted, her tone rising in irritation. “I deserve to know.”

“Ahsoka, please, I—”

“ _Tell me_!”

What could it possibly be—

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan looked as if the weight of the entire galaxy were crushing his shoulders. “Anakin had been groomed for his role as Darth Sidious’ apprentice for years. Almost since he was a child. We discovered that Sidious was Chancellor Palpatine, who manipulated the Clone Wars and took control of the Senate. He…he orchestrated Order 66. He tempted Anakin.”

“No,” she whispered. “Anakin would never.” But even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t entirely true. Anakin had always been ruled by his emotions and his fear, and she’d witnessed him nearly go over the edge several times.

“He took a particular turn for the worst after you left. And then Padme got pregnant, and…Sidious promised him to keep her safe. He fell for it.”

She was shaking her head now. “No.”

But it was as if once Obi-Wan had started retelling the horrific story, he couldn’t stop. “He turned. He killed Windu, he killed other Jedi, and he pledged his loyalty to Sidious. And then he went to the Mustafar system and I went after him. I thought…I thought I could change his mind, but I was a fool. He had already fallen. His eyes were yellow. The hatred…it was awful. He fought me, and in the end…”

He trailed off. “I left him dying in the lava.”

Her skin felt hot and prickling. The room swayed as she watched, her head pounding. Suddenly she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She was underwater and drowning and there was _no oxygen._ Where was it? Her chest was caving in. Her brain screamed.

Anakin. Anakin. Her brother, her master, her best friend. He protected her. He was strong, brave, loyal, caring…

_He had turned to the Dark side._

Ahsoka really thought she was used to receiving terrible news by now. When the purge hit initially, she dealt with the grief of losing all of her brothers, then feeling thousands of the Jedi die in blaster fire through the Force. She learned of Padme’s death on the news. Then she said goodbye to Rex.

But this was the final straw. It hurt worse than anything else put together—not the fact that he was dead but that he had _turned,_ and that she wasn’t there to stop him. That when she had left the Order, he truly began to spiral.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan was saying softly, like he was speaking to a wounded animal. “Ahsoka, you couldn’t have done anything—”

The room was too small suddenly, and Ahsoka shoved herself away from the table, away from Korkie, and stumbled blindly out of the house, her breath coming in heaving gasps.

She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. She felt blind, vaguely aware of her knees hitting the scalding sand, her knee hitting something sharp like a rock. Her bruised throat was constricting as if the Inquisitor’s Force grip was still around it.

A horrible, broken sob came from her. When would the galaxy be less cruel?

She let out a scream into the desert, the sand and wind swallowing up the noise as she did so.

_Not Anakin. Not him too._

_Your fault._


End file.
